


Baking Pleasures

by allixiler



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allixiler/pseuds/allixiler
Summary: Hannibal Lecter bakes Christmas cookies.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Original Female Character(s), Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	Baking Pleasures

You didn’t have the beg Hannibal for much. More often than not, all you had to do was ask and he was all over it. Over the years, you had stretched and experimented to see just how far you could go to get what you wanted (within reason, of course). As far as your current request was concerned, it should’ve been no problem at all. That’s why you were so surprised at how adamant he was being about NOT doing it. 

Hannibal was a culinary master...depending on who you asked. He put careful thought, time, and precision into his cooking. If it wasn’t picture perfect, then he didn’t serve it. Every element of his dishes were intentional and methodical. His courses were planned to delicate perfection. Cooking was likely his biggest passion. Which is why you were just so confused that he wouldn’t do this for you.

“Come on, please? I don’t understand what the problem is.” You asked for the thousandth time.

“There simply isn’t a problem. I just don’t have the desire to do it.” He replied, not looking up from the book in his hand. 

You huffed at that. The man had done so much for you in your time together and this is where he drew the line? It was a little pathetic if you were being honest. 

“I thought you’d love the idea of it! It’s almost Christmas, you know. I think it’s only fitting to get into the spirit.” You argued back. 

He looked at you briefly with one of you most unamused expressions you had ever seen, before silently returning his attention to his selected reading. Who would’ve thought that getting Hannibal Lecter to bake gingerbread cookies would be like pulling teeth? It wasn’t like you were asking him to give you a kidney or anything. You stared at him for the next following moments, his sigh was heavy as he closed the book. 

“I don’t bake.” He stated plainly.

“Yes, you do. I’ve seen you do it!” You screeched.

He shook his head;

“I bake exquisite dishes. That is well beyond my wheelhouse.” He bantered.

Your eyes squinted and you shook your head in disbelief. Surely he wasn’t denying this because he didn’t know how to. You knew he had to have a recipe somewhere in his array of culinary directions. He wasn’t lying when he said that this wasn’t something that he would normally do. The thought of it just seemed menial and rather pointless. Hannibal didn’t even really do much for Christmas. He never even decorated until you moved in. Even then he didn’t really get that involved with it. So gingerbread cookies weren’t in his best interest. Honestly, you just thought that this would’ve been something fun for the two of you to do. 

“Hanni, this isn’t going to diminish your reputation as a chef or anything,” You explained; “I wasn’t trying to invalidate your skills.” 

He felt a little twinge in his chest. He was a prideful man, even if he didn’t show it most of the time. He didn’t cherish the thought of doing anything that would be considered out of character. Something as commercial and something so childish (in his opinion) just wasn’t him. However, doing things for your benefit and your entertainment was definitely not out of character for him. He genuinely loved doing things for you. Perhaps his love language was acts of service. If nothing else, maybe he could score some extra boyfriend points if he did this. After all, he found it hard to say no to you. 

“Of course not, darling. I never thought you were,” He said, turning to face you; “If you will, go set up the kitchen. I’ll be there shortly.”

Giddy with excitement, you leapt from the sofa and made a mad dash for his culinary wonderland. He only smiled and offered the lightest laugh at your behavior. Just what had he gotten himself into?

Sure enough, Hannibal had a recipe stashed away in his cabinet. It was fairly simple as far as ingredients go. All-purpose flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, sugar. It was pretty straightforward. You sat across from him, watching intently as his hands worked their magic. You were rather talkative in the kitchen, which he didn’t mind. He liked when you asked questions or displayed your curiosity. He loved hearing the sound of your voice.

“Baking isn’t so bad. Is it, Dr. Lecter?” You asked with a charmed smirk.

He had to admit. He was having the time of his life. He never thought that doing something so basic and commercialized would bring him such joy. Maybe he wasn’t such a stranger to common life after all. 

“I must admit that it is rather pleasurable. Especially when it’s for my wife.” He said, flashing a smile.

He rolled out the chestnut colored dough onto his vast countertop, noting to himself that he didn’t really have any way to shape them. Nonetheless, he was very steady with his hands and he could carve them out on his own. He pulled a slender knife from one of his drawers, leaning down closely to accurately trace gingerbread men-like shapes. You leaned forward on your elbows watching the way his focus zeroed in on the current task at hand. Eventually, he was able to sculpt out 12 cookies, which were just about as flawless as he could’ve gotten them.

20 minutes in the oven (and a love making quickie on the counter) later, Hannibal presented to you the most gorgeous cookies you had ever seen. They were seriously like something out of a holiday card. You were over the moon with how they turned out, but even then they were still missing the best part. You had always loved decorating cookies ever since you were a little kid. You felt as if you didn’t need to pain Hannibal further, so you took it upon yourself. Now with the roles reversed, he watched as you filled the whipped up icing into a piping bag, ready to go. He observed the way your fingers gently guided the correct amount of icing onto each cookie, your arm steadily moving the direction of how the icing flowed around the edges of each individual cookie. 

“I think they’re finished!” You exclaimed after a few moments later.

Hannibal approached next to you, looking down at your work. It was pretty nifty, he had to admit. He selected one and held to your lips. You took a generous bite, the flavor like a sweet wave over your taste buds.

“So, what’s the verdict?” He questioned jokingly.

Your eyelashes fluttered as a satisfied grin appeared on your face;

“Amazing as always.” You complimented.

He took a bite himself from the same one, he was also content with your conjoined work. 

“That makes two of you.” He spoke.

You felt your cheeks get hot, but fired off at him;

“Forward today, aren’t we? You make gingerbread cookies once and now you’re suddenly bold.” 

He hummed, gripping your hips and pulling you to him. His voice was like silk in your ear, and it was enough to make you forget all about the cookies at hand.

“You just don’t know how bold I can get.”


End file.
